


Old Friends and Lovers

by die_traumerei



Series: Castle Terra [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Disabled Aziraphale (Good Omens), Disabled Character, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Light Angst, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Reminiscing, Slice of Life, Smut, Trans Character, Trans!Crowley, Useless Lesbians, Vaginal Fingering, everyone loves Aziraphale, just talking and fucking really, remembering old lovers, strangely it's mostly crowley doing the remembering for once, that's the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25053154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Over the course of an afternoon, Aziraphale and Crowley go on a walk, write letters, and reminisce about old lovers.And because it's them, they also have a lot of sex.(Set in a kind of high fantasy/pseudo-medieval AU)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Castle Terra [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801759
Comments: 21
Kudos: 103





	Old Friends and Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> I told you there was still a lot I wanted to write for this series ;)

“Angel?”

“At my desk,” Aziraphale called, hardly looking up. There was only a single line of bookcases here at what she thought of as the front of her library, creating almost a separate room with her great desk and a number of smaller tables for visitors to use.

Crowley soon appeared at the little break in the bookcases, and came over to kiss her hello. “Afternoon, love,” Aziraphale said, smiling up at her.

“Are you busy? I can come back,” Crowley offered, perching on the edge of her desk.

“I am a bit, but don't feel you need to leave,” Aziraphale told her, looking at the mass of letter-paper and inks and such. “I'm catching up on letter-writing, but shouldn't be much longer. Go fix a cup of tea if you like, by the way, kettle's hot.”

“In a moment,” Crowley said, swinging her leg _just_ so her toe would bump Aziraphale's thigh, to be annoying.

Aziraphale guessed she was still hard into the first flush of love; she found it really a bit charming. Especially when she could reach down and grab Crowley's foot and squeeze, and hold her still.

“Blimey,” Crowley said, while Aziraphale wrote with her free hand. “You catching up on a year's worth?”

“Pretty nearly.” Aziraphale looked up briefly to smile. “It's tradition, after the holidays, for maestras and maestros to write each other. We all know the holidays are basically lost to accounting and recordkeeping and court celebrations and such. And of course I have some old chums I write to now and then throughout the year, but everyone tries to at least say hello in January.” She made a face at the grey outdoors, glooming in through the window. “Not that there's much else to do, mind.”

“I can think of a few things,” Crowley said helpfully, and Aziraphale thumped her on her thigh.

“Cheeky. We aren't all lucky enough to have an insatiable demon to hand.”

Crowley preened, feeling particularly pretty that day. Her hair was up in intricate braids she'd taken all morning to do, and she was hoping Aziraphale appreciated it. “What d'you write about? Have you mentioned me?” She eyed the stack of letters. “And just to get me through cold nights, exactly how many of these recipients have made love to you?”

Aziraphale sighed, and set her pen aside. She quickly sorted through the stack of sealed letters, pausing in one or two places to smile at a memory, and made two stacks. One was very short. One was  _extremely_ tall. She sighed again, picked up the tall stack, and showed it to Crowley. “Past lovers, if you must know. I mean, mostly friends, we weren't  _together_ , but we'd experiment, or kill a slow afternoon. Or week.” She smiled. “Or summer holiday.”

Crowley cooed and clapped her hands. “Of course you did, angel.”

“And of course I write about you,” Aziraphale said, going back to her letter. “You're a very important part of my life, my darling. It's very exciting – to be able to tell people I'm here, that I met you, all the things I've done and explored.” She smiled and wiggled her foot, carefully. “My riding accident, and my journey here, and all the good and bad. And I'll get letters back from them with the same.”

Crowley leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Will you tell me about your friends? When you get their letters?”

“Crowley, of course! I'm sure you'll meet some of them sooner or later – it's considered rather rude to visit a maestra in her first year, but after that it's not unusual at all to come for a research visit and catch up on old times.” Aziraphale set her pen down, and touched Crowley's knee. “Which reminds me. You know what I got up to at school --”

“Not _enough_ ,” Crowley said happily. Aziraphale's Lesbian Orgy Sexual Escapades had become her favourite genre of story.

Aziraphale made a little  _tch_ noise. “ _As_ I was saying. You know my...patterns. But you should also know that I am very monogamous now – no matter who comes to visit, I only want to make love to you, darling.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, surprised. “I never thought otherwise.” She paused, thinking. “Is that very selfish of me?”

“If it is, I don't care. I want you to be selfish when it comes to me,” Aziraphale said. She squeezed Crowley's knee. “I love you with all my heart, but will you please bugger off and let me finish this? I'll come find you in a bit, but I really would like to get these done.”

“All right, guess I've irritated you enough,” Crowley said cheerfully, and buggered off to settle by the fire, playing with a little wooden puzzle Aziraphale had found somewhere, which she found soothing to solve.

She didn't have long to wait, at least, with Aziraphale reappearing soon enough, letters in a pouch slung across her body. “Right then, I'm all yours,” she said happily, going over to Crowley and kissing her soundly. “I'm about to go mad staring at the inside of the Library, let's take a walk and I can drop these by the guardhouse?”

Crowley grinned and tugged Aziraphale into her lap for a moment's cuddle, one hand on her generous bottom and the other cupping her shoulder. “That sounds perfect, love. Get that blood flowing.” She squeezed her hand. The one that wasn't on Aziraphale's shoulder.

“You are _incorrigable_ ,” Aziraphale sighed, cupping Crowley's face in her hands and kissing her deeply. “Lucky for me.”

Crowley grinned and returned the kiss, slipping her hand around to start to work under Aziraphale's gown and shift, and up her leg, caressing soft, warm thigh, then even higher, her fingertips just brushing, barely dipping, the tiniest hint of a touch of wet really...

Aziraphale groaned. “Maybe just a moment....”

Crowley kissed her and dipped her hand a little deeper, just brushing her vulva, already wet to the touch, and spreading that, finding her clit and touching it lightly. “Just a little reward for my working girl,” she teased softly into Aziraphale's mouth, her fingertip brushing her angel's clitoris again, a little more firmly this time.

She teased and touched and kissed, and Aziraphale promised horrible revenge later, but she was also moaning, sprawled on Crowley's lap and reaching for hungry kisses while Crowley teased for as long as she could, doing all the things that she  _knew_ brought Aziraphale to the edge, before finally changing pressure and rhythm and bringing her sweetheart to joy. She was never, ever going to get tired of Aziraphale's little cry, and the way her back arched, the way she collapsed and instinctively burrowed closer to Crowley.

“Oh that was delicious,” she sighed. “Thank you very much. May I suck you off later, please? I haven't tasted you in such a long time.” It had been about three days, of course.

“I'd like that very much,” Crowley said, and kissed her sweetly. She wasn't quite as libidinous as Aziraphale – no one was, she was pretty sure – but she could keep up pretty well, she reckoned. And Crowley basically wanted to spend her entire waking life pleasuring Aziraphale anyway, so it never felt unfair.

Which didn't mean she didn't thoroughly and completely love Aziraphale bringing  _her_ to orgasm. Just...not constantly.

She enjoyed a snuggly, post-orgasm angel for a little bit longer, before Aziraphale insisted that no, she really needed to take some proper exercise, even in this dull weather.

“And you go wash your hands first,” she ordered, making Crowley cackle when she got up and despatched her beloved with a little smack to the bottom. It was quick work to find a shawl for Crowley to borrow and throw on a warm cloak herself. Aziraphale also retrieved the single crutch she kept by the door; her ankle was nearly healed, but when she ventured much farther than Crowley's apartment, it was much nicer to have something to help her.

So they set out, hand-in-hand and giggling over some joke or other, through the chilly halls of the castle and out into the only  _slightly_ more chilly yard. At least the mud was frozen, so they could pick their way to the gatehouse, Crowley helping her past a particularly slippery patch with great gallantry that Aziraphale thought she perhaps enjoyed a  _little_ too much.

“Hullo then, Colin,” she greeted the guard cheerfully. He was a friendly older man who looked disarmingly kind and cheerful and harmless. In reality, he was a veteran of the same war that had nearly killed Aziraphale when she was a girl, and the castle couldn't have asked for a better protector. Their shared history had given them a kind of fellow-feeling, and he greeted her warmly. 

“Maestra! And Princess,” he added, bowing deeply to Crowley who looked incredibly embarrassed when she curtsied in return. “Still having trouble with your foot?” he asked Aziraphale kindly, taking her letters to pass off to the next person headed to town proper. 

“A bit,” she admitted. “But it's nearly better, truly. I don't really need this,” she nodded to the crutch, “except that we're going on a little roam. Have I got any mail, by the way?”

“Of course, it's that time of year,” Colin said cheerfully, and Crowley wondered if she was the only ignoramus in the world who didn't understand how Librarians worked. Aziraphale was handed a small stack of colourful letters, and she made happy noises, and kissed Colin's cheek.

It was a little balm on the soul that affection from Aziraphale made  _lots_ of people go red, Crowley decided, as they bid goodbye and plunged back into the chilly world, the quiet winter of the castle.

Aziraphale smiled at her, and Crowley smiled back, leaning in to give her a little kiss as they rounded by the chicken coop, ducking under an archway to walk the pleasure-gardens, nice even in winter.

“Hey angel?” Crowley asked, as they paused to admire a pretty little nook that was _far_ too cold to sit in this time of year. “Am I...really ignorant? Of the world?”

Aziraphale turned and stared at her. “What? No. Of course you aren't, Crowley.” She paused for a moment. “Can I get some context on why you'd ask that, love?”

Crowley kicked the ground. “You have to explain everything about being a Maestra to me. And how etiquette works at other courts. And, yeah. Just. I'm sorry. If I'm ignorant.”

“Oh, love.” Aziraphale gathered her into a hug. “You're not at all, my poor girl. Please don't ever think that.” She smiled and kissed her softly. “Who had to explain to me that I never needed to kneel in front of you, or prostrate myself?”

“That's totally different!”

“Is it?” Aziraphale linked her arm with Crowley's and they started to walk again to keep warm. “I didn't understand any of the protocols here, until you taught them to me. You had to walk me to my seat at Christmas dinner, and don't pretend it was because I needed help walking, I was just fine on crutches. I didn't know where to go, or who I'd be sat with. Lovey, I've just had a little more training in some things than you have – I've told you about the etiquette we're taught, it's so we can adapt quickly.” She smiled bitterly. “Heaven's Court was a terrible place for me. But my God, did I adapt. Just like I'm adapting here, where everyone is warm and kind and good.”

“Everyone?” Crowley teased.  
“Well, there's this demonic princess who keeps following me around...” Aziraphale giggled at the terrible joke, or rather the effect it had on Crowley, making her laugh and ease. “Everyone, you silly girl. Crowley, I love teaching you the traditions I learned, the rituals I go through, all of that.” She bumped their shoulders together. “I promise, you're not the only person who has no idea of the extent of my training, or the little things like the letters. And you're not ignorant. I'm very serious about that – never think you are, all right?”

“All right, maestra,” Crowley said softly, and kissed her cheek suddenly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Crowley,” Aziraphale said firmly. “I'm so happy to share my life with you, and don't you forget it.”

Crowley couldn't really make words anymore, just hugged Aziraphale's arm, and continued their walk in quiet, until the lump in her throat cleared.

It was briskly cold out, but they both appreciated the chance to shake off the drowsy dullness of a winter spent mostly inside. The weather was dry enough that Aziraphale wasn't in pain and moved with ease, even chasing Crowley across a flat patio, giggling and moving with surprising speed, crashing into her in the shadow of two apple trees and getting gathered up in Crowley's arms.

“I love you,” Crowley whispered, touching their noses together, grinning, and kissing her again. “I love you.”

“My demon,” Aziraphale said happily, and giggled again when Crowley lifted her hood to frame her face. She stole a kiss, and hooked her arm in Crowley's again, and they resumed their walk together, snuggled for warmth and laughing over this or that, taking the very long way back to the castle proper, and up to Crowley's rooms.

Of course, having arrived half-frozen, it was immediately necessary to make a pot of tea and snuggle in front of the fire under a blanket, Aziraphale fussing hard when she noticed Crowley's very fashionable and very thin boots had done nothing to protect her feet from the cold, to say nothing of the state of her fingers.

“That shawl did _nothing_ ,” she scolded. “I ought to've made you wear my heavy cloak, darling.” And she rubbed Crowley's toes and made her put them right up against the hearth, and breathed on her fingertips and tucked Crowley's hands under her chin where the skin was so soft and warm.

“I can think of other warm places on your body to put my hands,” Crowley offered helpfully.

“Absolutely no touching my breasts until you thaw out,” Aziraphale threatened. “Your fingers are like _ice_ , demon.”

“Aww...”

“I mean it,” Aziraphale said, but did kiss her knuckles, to ease the agony of not being allowed to feel her up right at that exact second.

Crowley did warm up, with tea and a bit of time and more snuggles under the blanket, which gradually moved to snuggles on her sofa, a wide, deep creation that was more like a bed in disguise than anything else.

She had just finished kissing the soft spots on Aziraphale's throat and making her emit tiny, precious little moans. They both felt lazy and loving, dinner still some hours away, and caught in their own little bubble of warmth.

“Crowley?”

“Hmm?” Crowley nosed at the collar of Aziraphale's dress, but it was cut disappointingly high. Well, at least she wouldn't get a cold in her chest, but it _did_ cut down on Crowley's chances of getting a little nipple-based fun in her life.

“I'd like to make love to you – go down on you. What would you like best, though?”

Crowley grinned, and kissed Aziraphale's throat. “You in just your stockings, please. Are you okay to kneel, love?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said. “Honestly, my ankle doesn't hurt even a bit, I think I don't need the crutch anymore.”

Crowley gave her a tight hug. It had been weeks since her riding accident, and this was worth celebrating. “Good. So, as I was saying. How high are your stockings?”

Aziraphale giggled. “Here,” she said, taking Crowley's hand and running her fingertips about midway up Aziraphale's thigh. “I've ordered some that go here, mind,” she murmured into in a kiss, moving Crowley's hand nearly to her crotch. Learning about  _this_ little fetish had been the highlight of her New Year's celebration. “Just take a bit to knit, you know. I've got a lot of leg.”

“Don't I _know_ it,” Crowley said happily, and squeezed said thigh. “Right. Just your stockings. And me without my dress or petticoat, but wearing everything else.” She touched her flat, hard belly. “I've got a full corset on, darling, you'll have to work to get at my breasts.”

“I love a challenge,” Aziraphale said, already wiggling out of her gown.

“Just out of curiosity, do you wear loose clothes so you can be ready to fuck at a moment's notice?” Crowley asked, undoing the buttons on her dress bodice. She loved tight-fitted dresses that flared out at the hips, but was starting to come around to Aziraphale's silhouette.

“Strangely, no, although that's a wonderful side bonus I always appreciate,” she said, standing and carefully draping the wool gown over a nearby chair before whipping off her flannel shift. “Sometimes it hurts to have anything rubbing on my scar, and a loose cut means they always fit, no matter how much weight I've gained or lost.” She smiled shyly. “And I think they make me look nice.”

“Oh, baby.” Crowley stopped dead and held out her arms. “You are so _beautiful_ in those gowns. I'm sorry if I made it sound like anything else.” She took a moment to cuddle a mostly-naked Aziraphale in her arms, and touched her bad hip. “This is okay, right?”

“I promise, I'd tell you if it wasn't,” Aziraphale said, and kissed her brow. “I want this very much. You're very creative, my love. Now finish up, I need to get my boots off.”

Crowley giggled and let her go after one more kiss – and a squeeze of her cute bum, of course. Her dress came off after a little more work, and the red flannel petticoat that made Aziraphale laugh and admire its beauty was also fast to come off.

The sofa was a little deep, so Crowley took a seat in a chair by the fire, a rug and blanket at her feet so Aziraphale's knees might not have to suffer too much. She was wearing stockings, split pantaloons, and her corset over a thin camisole, and nothing else. She spread her legs and took her cock in hand, stroking slow and lazy, just keeping things interesting.

Aziraphale, boots off, stood before her, letting Crowley take her in, admire her. She was tall and made of curves. Fat, and utterly delicious, from her bold, hungry eyes, round breasts that rested full and made for biting, plump arms and her soft belly. The dark triangle of pubic hair that led to Crowley's favourite flavour in the world, the thick dents and curves of her thighs and her hips, all down to surprisingly delicate ankles and feet. Her stockings showed off the sweet lines of her calves and thighs, white and finely-knit, tied with garters of blue silk, a pair that Crowley had given her.

“What do you want me to do, love?” Aziraphale asked. “Only I really would _very_ much like to get my mouth on you.”

Crowley grinned and spread her legs. “Well, go to it, angel. You're a beauty. Look up at me, please. I want to watch you be happy.” She had taken her dark glasses off as soon as they entered the room, second nature now. Aziraphale loved to see her eyes, and Crowley loved to indulge her.

She gave a happy trill and fell to her knees, hands on Crowley's thighs, rubbing them, easing her hips open a little wider. And making a hungry, greedy noise that Crowley  _knew_ she had last made in response to a particularly elaborate trifle.

Crowley quite liked the idea of being something of an elaborate, desirable trifle herself. Especially when it came to Aziraphale.

It was exactly as she'd hoped – long and drawn-out, Aziraphale slowly building the heat in her cock, teasing a little but mostly simply loving Crowley, her big hazel eyes gazing up as she worked Crowley over from tip to root, thumbs massaging the tight muscles of her thighs or skimming her hands up. Holding Crowley's tiny waist, silently admiring her figure before reaching up to cup her bosom and squeeze a little, play there before her hands returned to Crowley's hips and she built the heat and wet and suction to climax, and Crowley, already lost in moans and soft noises of pleasure, threw her head back and howled, it felt  _so_ good to have her own angel so very happy to go down on her, to obviously enjoy her cock, to learn how to use mouth and tongue and suction to bring Crowley to glory.

She was always oversensitive after coming, and Aziraphale obligingly pulled off, knelt back, and touched her lips, now a little swollen. And made sure Crowley was watching as she carefully wiped the edge of her mouth, and licked her fingertip clean.

“You... _fuck_ ,” Crowley breathed, and Aziraphale gave her a beautiful, sunny smile.

“I love the taste of you,” she said. “And there's so _much_. So nice.”

Crowley just gave up and moaned. And let Aziraphale, her tall, gorgeous woman, help her up and over to the big sofa where they could cuddle far more easily under the soft blanket.

There was no rush, no need to do anything, so she floated a long time in that post-orgasm cloud. Maybe this was also why she didn't want to come as often; Aziraphale could be screaming her name one minute and bouncing up and off to the next thing another minute later. But Crowley needed time, and softness, head on her angel's chest and Aziraphale's arms around her, protecting her from the world.

“You're so beautiful,” Aziraphale murmured to her. “Can't believe the prettiest woman in the world picked me.”

Crowley poked her side at this, but was too out of it to argue much. Nicer to stay snuggled close and let herself be loved and cherished for all parts of herself, and to love Aziraphale in return. And maybe rest a hand on the crease below her bottom, one of Crowley's favourite parts of her body. If she spread her fingers, she could just touch the top of Aziraphale's stockings.

They lay together in soft afterglow for some time, Aziraphale not moving an inch until Crowley started to get a little wriggly, then the two of them shifting to lie side-by-side, Crowley on her tummy and Aziraphale stretched out on her back. She gave Crowley's arse a little squeeze, and kissed her brow. “Love? I'd adore staying cuddled up, but do you mind if I read my post?”

“'Course not, angel.” Crowley grinned and moved aside so she could more easily rise. “Will you tell me any good gossip?”

“Obviously.” Aziraphale kissed her temple. “Be right back.”

Well, not  _that_ right back. She was taking her time walking across the room, her hips and bottom swaying as she retrieved the bag with a few early letters, and strode back, smiling at how Crowley had obviously popped her head over the back of the sofa to watch. “Cheeky.”

“Maybe if you weren't so luscious I wouldn't stare at you constantly, eh? You ever think of that?” Crowley challenged, lying back down on her side, feeling a little luscious herself. Her cock was tucked back into her drawers, and she felt very femme and very pretty when Aziraphale kissed her.

“I can't help who I am as a person,” Aziraphale said serenely, while Crowley howled with laughter. She sat up, the firelight dancing across her breasts, and opened the first letter. “Oh, Asha! Oh, my dear, you absolutely _must_ meet her as soon as I can take visitors. She's working quite close by.” Aziraphale sighed, and even blushed a little. “She...well, I suppose she was my first lover. Though we were quite young and rather inexperienced, the both of us.”

Crowley emitted a happy little whoop. “Lucky girl! How is she?” She knew of a few of Aziraphale's old school chums – and some of her enemies who she was definitely not quietly figuring out how to punish decades later for being mean to her girl – and was pretty sure Asha's name had been mentioned in passing.

Aziraphale scanned the letter, smile growing. “She's wonderful, love. Pulled off an absolutely enormous research project with flying colours, of course. You think I'm clever, I'm  _nothing_ next to her.”

Crowley made a warning sound in her throat. Aziraphale saying she was nothing, even in exaggerated comparison, was not to be permitted.

Aziraphale just smiled and petted her head. “I love you. But yes, she's very well.” She read a little more, eyes quickly scanning the words she might re-read and savour a few more times, happy news from an old friend. “Camping trip in the spring, oh, lovely. A bit of a dalliance over the summer, good girl! And well and happy to hear I was out of Heaven's Court.” She blushed at what she read, and bit her lip.

“ _What_?” Crowley demanded.

Aziraphale cleared her throat and read aloud. “'I can't tell you how happy I was, when word of your leaving came. I know it's hard, beautiful girl, I know it's the hardest thing you'll ever do – well maybe not  _you_ , but for most Librarians – but you deserve so much better. Terra's a good post, and you make sure they treat you well, all right? You deserve every ounce of comfort and peace. You're long overdue. I want a happy Christmas letter from my Aziraphale.'”

Crowley hugged her tightly. “And she got one, right?”

“The happiest,” Aziraphale assured her. “Mostly I talked about you, silly duck.” She smiled. “She's so close by, I imagine we'll write more often now. Good. I missed her.”

Crowley hugged her again, and settled with her head on Aziraphale's lap. The next two letters were from maestros from her year; more casual friends who didn't have much gossip.

“Angel? Do most Librarians not marry?” Crowley asked, after realising that Aziraphale was maybe the first one she'd met who was in _any_ kind of relationship.

“No, we rather tend not to. Oh, people take lovers, we're obviously not under any kind of chastity order,” she teased. “But...this isn't just my job, it's my calling. I'm a part of this castle now, and a part of the kingdom's history, if a small, mostly-anonymous part. It's...hard, for some people, to have to share their beloved with the kingdom.”

Crowley nodded. “No, I understand. I know I'm not very good at it, but I  _am_ a royal. So it's a little bit the same for me.”

Aziraphale gave her a little tap on the nose. “You're fine, beloved. You  _are_ . But yes, I imagine you do understand.” She leaned over and kissed her. “Partners are a little more common; most people don't have children, though.”

Crowley kissed her tummy. “Do you regret that?”

“Not even a bit,” Aziraphale said immediately. “Children are...all right. I suppose. They're awfully loud and sticky, though. What about you?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said softly. “I do, a little. I like kids. I might have...” She shrugged. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale set the letters aside and slid down to gather her into a hug. “I'm so sorry, beloved. I'm _so_ sorry. It's not fair.”

Crowley smiled at her. “No, it isn't. But I made my peace with it.” She shook her head. “I thought no one would ever love me, like this, and wasn't I proved wrong? I'm helping raise Adam, and I can play with the kids running around, and that's...it's fine.”

Aziraphale hugged her tightly. “You're the best auntie anybody could ask for. I love you so, so much. I love you with all my heart.” She smiled and stroked Crowley's hair. “And I'm not the only one, I know I'm not. You've had other lovers.”

Crowley smiled. “Yeah. I have.”

“Would you tell me about one of them, please? Or more.” Aziraphale pulled back to meet Crowley's eyes. “Oi! You get to hear all about my past lovers _all the time_! The tables are turning today, demon!”

Crowley pulled the blanket up over her head. “It's boring!”

“I don't mind,” Aziraphale said. “Baby, I mean that. I _want_ to hear about the other people who have loved you.”

“No one like you,” Crowley said, lowering the blanket cautiously. “I mean, there was affection, even love. But Aziraphale, _no one_ has loved me like you do.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale slid down and pulled her close. “Am I pushing too hard?”

Crowley shook her head. “I want to tell you,” she said shyly. “I really do. Just. Prepare yourself to be underwhelmed.”

“I don't think I will be, but all right. Preparing myself,” Aziraphale said, and cuddled Crowley for a moment, then smiled. “Do you mind very much if I get dressed while you talk? Only it's a bit nippy to have my arse hanging out.”

Crowley giggled, and cupped her hands around said arse. “Aww. Well, wouldn't want to get frostbite here.” She ducked her head and kissed one of Aziraphale's nipples, rose-pink and already a little stiff. “Or here.”

Aziraphale sighed happily. “You, me, bed, later. Under lots of quilts.” And she wiggled free, going over to where her clothes lay neatly across a chair.

Crowley watched her, unable to keep from smiling. This was real intimacy, the everyday getting-dressed kind. “I lost my virginity to Beez, just before I...had to come here,” she said, choosing words carefully. “She was a good lover, I think. A little harsh at times, but she liked me, and I liked her, and she helped me figure out what felt good.” Crowley smiled, remembering. “She  _loved_ pegging, and was very good at it. I don't think it was true love, but we had a lot of fun.” She sighed. “It was...a weird dynamic, between her and Mother. I think that spilled over, and it was definitely a part of why I came here.”

Aziraphale nodded, but stayed silent. Her shift was on and she had pulled on her gown too, and was adjusting the laces to fit her waist a little more closely.

“We fell out of touch, I don't know how she is.” Crowley smiled. “I do wish her well. She was very kind to me in a lot of ways. And she treated me like a girl – she was _very_ dashing, liked being the butch one.”

Aziraphale came and sat on the edge of the sofa, smiling. “Do you want to be held, darling?”

Crowley shook her head. “Not right now. I like to see you.”

“I'll stay right here, then,” Aziraphale said. “So Beez. Then you came here?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah. I had a hard time at first, kind of. Didn't want to be touched, or touch.”

“Oh, love,” Aziraphale breathed, but Crowley kept going. 

“I know, right?” She half-smiled. “It got better, after that first year. I felt...womanly. For the first time, really. And I met Sasha, forget how. But she was wonderful. Zira, you would love her.”

“I'm absolutely sure of it,” Aziraphale said firmly. “Just going by the look on your face.”

Crowley's smile grew. “Yeah. I mean, again, dunno if it was a love for the ages. But she adored me, and I adored her, and we spent the better part of a year together. Honestly we had...a lot of sex.” She laughed, and blushed. “She didn't mind my cock – really liked it, actually, like you. That was nice. And she was pretty, and thought I was pretty, and we got on well. I think she was the first person I was really properly  _with_ , courted, all of that.”

Aziraphale's smile kept growing. “I definitely adore her.”

Crowley blushed. “So yeah. She was good. And, ah. Inventive. Creative.” She thought a moment, and sighed, and smiled. “Very creative.”

“I need more details,” Aziraphale said, eyes dancing. “Now, demon.”

Crowley giggled. “She, um. Well, she really liked being fucked? I mean, she liked penetrative sex. That was new for me. And...really nice?”

Aziraphale giggled. “Good. Now what aren't you telling me?”

“She really, really liked storytelling, I guess? Pretending we were cloistered nuns or that I was a lost princess who stumbled across her humble woodcutter's cottage, that kind of thing.” Crowley smiled, remembering. “When I broke my arm, she wrote a whole big long story around it, and I hardly noticed the annoying parts after awhile, because we had, er, a lot of sex games to play instead.”

Aziraphale clapped her hands in glee. “I love her!”

Crowley smiled. “You'd better – she's the one who taught me that trick with my tongue and your clit.”

“I really, _really_ love her,” Aziraphale assured her. “Darling, I'm so happy you had her.”

“Me too.” Crowley's smile softened. “She was great. Sorry, I keep speaking in the past tense – she's still alive. Got married, moved away, the usual.” Crowley ducked her head. “You know how I am with writing, these eyes of mine can only hold out so long. And, uh, I mean I didn't really want to dictate to the old maestro the things I wanted to say so...we fell out of touch.”

“Oh, baby,” Aziraphale said. “You know I wouldn't mind doing that for you, if you were all right with _me_. Or I can find another maestro or maestra, and they'll do it for you.”

“I know,” Crowley said. “I don't mind _you_ knowing what I want to say, you know it all anyway I think. Just.” She shrugged. “Sasha knows my eyes don't work right, and that I'm slow to write letters and things. But she didn't write to _me_. Maybe one or two letters, and that was it. I know she has babies – well, older children now – and is really busy, and running a kingdom actually _is_ more important than keeping in touch with me but...it sort of hurts?”

“I know, love,” Aziraphale said softly. “It's all right to be hurt. I'm sorry.”

Crowley smiled and shrugged. “Maybe I'll start writing again. It hurts less every year, and all.”

Aziraphale just reached out and took her hand, and Crowley squeezed it. “So she was really it, until you came along. I was with another woman, Dagon, for little bit, but we really didn't get along, like on a personal level. We fucked a few times, but it's not worth remembering.” A funny smile. “And that's mostly it. I've...been with a few women who, um. Didn't like my body. Or my eyes. They're not worth talking about.”

“No,” Aziraphale said firmly, “They're not. They're not worth your breath, Crowley.”

Crowley smiled at her, and tugged on their hands. “I'd like to be hugged now, please.”

“Then hugged you'll be,” Aziraphale said swooping down and gathering Crowley up in her arms. “I love you so, so so, much.”

Crowley just giggled, and hugged back. “I love you too. Whew. I know I don't have much of a history, but it was nice to tell you. I'm sorry it's sort of dull.”

“Hush now. I'm glad to know too.” Aziraphale kissed her, and kissed her again, snuggling her close and tucking the blanket a little more warmly about them. “May I ask you something about Sasha? Well, broadly about her.” A pause and an embarrassed smile. “Maybe more about me.”

“Yeah, of course,” Crowley said, surprised.

“Do you mind very much, that I don't like penetration?” she asked. “No, wait, I said that poorly.” She thought a moment. “Would you _like_ to have penetrative sex with me, if I wanted it?”

Crowley looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes,” she finally said. “I like it. But no, I don't mind that that's not something we do. I don't want to, if you don't want to, you know?” She blushed. “I...daydream, though.”

Aziraphale literally squealed aloud. “Tell me  _everything_ !”

“You don't mind?” Crowley asked, laughing.

“Only if you don't make me really good at it!” Aziraphale yelped. “Oh my God, oh my God, no, wait! Love, you'd be the first, for real, I mean.” She made another happy noise and wriggled. “Oh oh oh. I'm a little shy and unsure, and you have to be the strong one who eases me into it. You promise me over and over that you'll keep me safe, that it'll feel so good, I just have to trust you, and of course I do, I know you'll take the best care of me. Just a fingertip to start, dipping into me, and I give a little gasp, because you're so gentle, and it feels so nice. So _tender_. So you push into me a little deeper, and maybe add a second finger, feeling how soft and wet I am for you.”

“Ngk,” Crowley said in a very small voice, and Aziraphale grinned, clearly _extremely_ pleased with herself. Crowley thought that might get annoying in a few hundred years.

“It feels so good,” Aziraphale murmured. “You feel so nice in me, and I'm begging you for more but you don't want to frighten me, so you kiss me first, kiss my mouth and my breasts, and you start to thrust, just a little, with your fingers, but I'm so ready, I trust you _so much_ , and I'm _begging_ for your cock, so finally, _finally_ you settle between my legs...”

“I'm sure you can take it from there,” she ended airily, and Crowley yowled like a wet cat, and tackled her with kisses.

“I really,” kiss, “cannot,” kiss, “ _stand_ you, maestra,” kiss, kiss, kiss, and moan because Aziraphale was straddling her leg, grinding against it and still giving her hungry kisses.

“I can tell,” Aziraphale gasped, and gave a high-pitched cry when Crowley rolled them over, working her leg between Aziraphale's, rhythmic bumping to give her something to get off too. And gasped herself when Aziraphale went for one of her breasts, hungry, tasting Crowley's skin. She must have been close anyway; it didn't take long for Crowley to rub her to orgasm, her angel giving full voice to her ecstasy.

That...had been a lot of yelling for a little leg-humping and some kisses, Crowley considered.

“Aziraphale,” she said delicately, while the love of her existence was still gasping for breath. “Did you just get yourself off with _my_ fantasy?”

“Shut,” Aziraphale gasped, “the _fuck_ up, demon.”

Crowley didn't stop laughing for a long,  _long_ time.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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